


Offering

by WhiteLadyDragon



Series: White Snake, Black Turtle [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Astrology, Autistic Character, Awkward Flirting, Class Differences, Crystals, Domestic Fluff, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hand Jobs, Humor, Infertility, Interracial Relationship, LGBTQ Female Character of Color, Loneliness, Neglect, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Other, Pre-Canon, Regret, Romance, Slice of Life, Smut, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24369019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteLadyDragon/pseuds/WhiteLadyDragon
Summary: Aina's efforts to keep up and get along are briefly rewarded. Sequel to Denial.DISCLAIMER! Except for original characters, all featured or mentioned fictional entities are from Masashi Kishimoto's manga series Naruto. This fan fiction is written purely for entertainment and generates no profit whatsoever.
Relationships: Orochimaru (Naruto)/Original Character(s), Orochimaru (Naruto)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: White Snake, Black Turtle [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759444
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Offering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Autumn569](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autumn569/gifts), [Fenikkusu_Ai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenikkusu_Ai/gifts), [Telinh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telinh/gifts).



_"This is all for me…?"_

" _Ah well, not all of it. I did hafta put some aside t' pay th' rest o' th' debts I still owed. An' I put aside some more for m'self. B-but all th' rest's yours! Yep-yep! It's yours."_

…

" _I—I know it ain't a whole lot. Ain't near enough t' buy ev'rything you need now. But it should help you get started, a'least."_

…

…

…

" _Ah, your hands!"_

…

…

" _Orochimaru? A-are you okay?"_

…

" _So that's it. You've sold your farm. You are no longer bound to that village…"_

" _No more than you. Told ya I's gon' follow you one way or 'nother."_

" _It will be hard."_

" _Huh? Ah…ah yep, I know."_

" _It will be dangerous."_

" _I know. But I'm sure it'll be worth it. Any good thing takes hard work. An' risk. That's what you said."_

" _You may never be able to re-enter society if it gets to be too much."_

" _I don't care! I don' care anymore, awright? Y'think I ain't thought 'bout all this awready? Well, I have. I done thought real long-n-hard. An' this's what I wanna do! Got th' money right here in my one hand an' my sack in th' other! I got me wanderlust in my blood! My papa did it! My mama did it less but she still did it! Ain't no reason I can't do it, too! So there! I'm a-goin'!"_

…

…

…

" _Why would you do this? For me?"_

" _Y-yes."_

…

…

" _What do you wish for in return?"_

" _T-to be with you, o'course! I wanna come with you an' see th' world an' see this new village grow up from th' ground an' be better than all th' other villages! You gonna need somebody t' help you get it goin'. Can't do it all by yourself…"_

" _Heh…fufufufu…that sounds as if you don't believe in me."_

" _But I do! I do b'lieve in you! I-I'm jus' sayin' it's gon' be too big for you t' work all alone 'fore you know it. Even th' best need help sometimes. But I do b'lieve in you! I—I_ love _you!"_

…

"What? Wha'd'ya mean I can't come with you?"

"I mean it exactly as I just said it."

Aina pulls away from the comfortable spot between his arm and his chest, where she had previously rested her head. "No, ah, I heard what you said. I jus' don'… _why?_ How come I can't come with you?"

"There's no need for you to be there with me." Now that his arm is free, he reaches up to brush back a lock of his black hair from out of his face. "I'm afraid you won't be very comfortable…or helpful."

Her hands slide out from the sleeves of her sky-blue yukata to clasp in front of her mouth, her elbows digging into her lap as she leans forward in her seat. Her stomach tightens. Her shoulders curl. Her limbs stiffen as she wills herself not to react to the first twinge of hurt shooting through her chest.

His answer is blunt, per usual. Blunt yet vague enough to stun her into silence. Not helpful? What is that supposed to mean? Has she not helped him out enough?

She recalls their argument not long ago after he had come back from a party he had attended without her, one he had neglected to tell her about. While he had failed to justify his secrecy, she had since gotten enough time to consider if perhaps he had at least made the right choice in not bringing her along. Maybe she really _wouldn't_ have enjoyed herself? She does indeed love parties…if they're small. The bigger they get, the noisier they get, the more they weigh on her. More people crowd her and take as many bits and pieces of her psyche as they can—even if they don't want it—and leave chunks of their energy in their place, sharp and think as molten glass. Until she can barely tell who's saying what to her, where she ends and everyone else begins.

This overload is easily cured with fresh air and quiet. A half an hour or so of these and she is whole and at peace again. But the point of parties is to meet people, to make connections. Parties are also had for fun, but mostly they're for meeting people. And if he's correct, those people would not have been worth her effort, anyway.

He's meeting more people she won't get along with. Rich folks, powerful folks, scary folks, folks with unseen chips on their shoulders. More people who'd think she looks too funny, talks too funny, acts too funny. Is that what he means, this time?

She lifts her chin up onto her knuckles. "Ah…so this's like that party? I can't go 'cause I wouldn' appeal? I'd jus' be a d'straction?"

"Yes."

Aina deflates. If that's the reason, then there's nothing she can say to change his mind. Or if there is, she can't think of it.

Does he have to make it sound like it's her fault, though? Why not put more blame on _them?_ He's complained to her often enough about how narrow-minded people are. The people of Konoha are, at least.

She briefly puffs out her cheeks before puckering her lips and slowly blowing the air out of them. " _Shhhhh_ -ucks. So I got all dressed up for nothin'?"

Orochimaru's muffled chuckle tickles her ribs and spine. "Don't think of it like that. You never truly need a reason to dress up. Look at it this way: you'll have the whole day to yourself. You've been working so hard, dear. Take advantage of this free time."

These new words leave her so buoyant that she lets the hurt from moments ago drift away. _You've worked so hard. You deserve a rest. Treat yourself. Smooth out those alligator-elbows._ How many times has she heard someone tell her that? Not enough. Never enough, when she lets herself be honest. Not that you should work just for the award, but gratitude soothes like honey on her sore throat and empty stomach.

Her grin becomes too broad for her hands to conceal, so she unclasps them and drops them into her lap so she can pat her thick thighs. Her feet kick to and fro, kicking off her sandals (she never liked shoes all that much, anyway). Her chest puffs out. " _Weeeellllll_ ," she drawls, "since y'put it _that_ way…m'awright! You go on an' see these fellows. I'm still goin' with you t' see th' property, though. Gotta see where our money's goin'."

Orochimaru resumes his chuckling as he takes her right hand into his. Thanks in part to the miracle of medical ninjutsu, her hands have healed up nicely since her meltdown nearly two weeks ago. If you weren't there, you wouldn't have had the inkling any such thing had occurred. Squeezing the dip between her first and second knuckles gently between his thumb and fingers, he lifts her hand up to his lips. He kisses her knuckle once, twice, tilts her hand so it's shielding his mouth…then dabs her skin with the tip of his tongue discreetly.

_Ah!_

A spark fires up her arm and dances all along her spine, making her jolt. What's gotten into him, today? He never does things like this in front of other people!

Usually she'd implore him for more, but Kabuto is sitting right across from them. Never mind that he's not looking at them, that he's been staring blankly out of the window ever since they got moving, watching the world bob and jostle by with the rose quartz she'd lent him loose in his fist.

These games just don't seem good to play in front of a young boy. Yes, he'll have to learn about love and sex sometime (assuming he has no ideas about these, already), but not now.

_Must…r'sist…_

Aina sucks in her lips, tucks them in place between her teeth. Her dark complexion may or may not hide the blush flooding her cheeks, but sparks fly beneath her skin all the same, slowly setting the rest of her flesh on fire from the inside. More sparks jump at the sensation of his blowing on her moistened knuckle before running his tongue over it again—

She manages to rip her hand out of his grasp. "Stop it! N-not in front'a Kabuto," she whispers into his ear.

If he can deprive her of attention for five weeks in a row, there should be no harm done if she denies him for a single day. Less than that, even.

She clears her throat and her voice returns to normal volume. "Say, Kabuto! Reckon this means you-n-me gon' spend th' day t'gether. We'll go t' town an' see all th' wonderful sights." She claps her hands. "Won' that be fun?"

Kabuto doesn't answer. He doesn't even look her way. His mouth stays hidden in his arm that stretches along the window. Her heart sinks into his silence.

Orochimaru answers for him: "Actually, he'll be accompanying me, instead."

"Huh? Wait! How come he's goin' with you an' I can't?"

He narrows her yellow reptilian eyes at her. "If he's going to assist me in running the village, he'll need to see who's who and what's what."

She taps her fingers, still tingling from his touch, in her lap. "Oh. Right."

Kabuto fits his image. She doesn't.

So she'll be on her own for most of the day. Not that she isn't used to being alone. She can take care of herself just fine. But it sure would've been nice to have a hand to hold as she explores a whole new land…

No-no! This is supposed to be her free day. If she's going to spend it as she pleases, she'll have to spend it by herself. She'll have plenty of good company tonight to look forward to. Hopefully.

She glances down at her hands, now cradled in the narrow valley her yukata makes as her thighs part. They bounce lightly to the rhythm of the wheels rolling them along the road.

She clasps them back together. Suppose she can hold her own hand, again?

…

She's not delusional. There are some things she simply can't help with. Running a farm is not the same as running a whole village, never mind a shinobi village spanning what's rapidly becoming many countries. Selling fruits and vegetables on the market square is not quite the same as convincing daimyos and heads of troubled clans to invest all they have into you. He'd have a clearer vision on the latter, having once been an apprentice for the Third Hokage. It's better to stay out of the way than to dive in blindly and mess everything up.

Still, as she makes her way along the path to the local resort they'd all agreed to meet at by day's end, her mind flirts with doubt once more, nearly drowning out the songs of the birds. Would Orochimaru be happier with someone more like himself? Maybe not someone who _looked_ like him, for he's the only one of his kind. But someone more confident, more elegant and regal, worldlier, cleverer…someone tougher and more analytical, with a sharp tongue that never stutters and clearer eyes that are slower to shed tears and enough power in their fists to smash mountains and part the sea…someone as scary as him, if not in the exact same way…someone with a firmer figure and bigger, perkier breasts yet small enough to carry and set on your lap without effort…

Someone like Tsunade.

There had indeed been a time when she'd wondered if he would have liked Tsunade (or perhaps Jiraiya) better. Except he and she did argue a lot before she'd left Konoha. When Jiraiya didn't come home with them, choosing to stay with three orphaned children he'd discovered on a mission abroad, the friction between them worsened. Bickering and sniping had always been a staple of their friendship—for teammates, they had all been so awfully stubborn; even Jiraiya, the mellowest of the three.

But soon after their trio had dwindled down to a duo, the softness eroded with it, the bickering growing sharp, bitter and cruel. It'd hurt just to listen to it from the corner of the bar on those slow nights after almost everyone else had gone home. Nothing she'd tried could produce more than a momentary, uneasy truce. A finger in a rupturing dam.

Then Dan died, and the last few threads holding them together snapped. Jiraiya would come back for a little while, but by then it would be too late.

Oh, Tsunade, Jiraiya. What could they be up to, now? Are they holding up any better than Orochimaru? Are they eating enough good food? Do they have places to sleep? Are they keeping from getting too lonely?

Aina doesn't _hate_ them for leaving, necessarily. They surely had their reasons. But oh, if only they could have stayed and worked things out! They, and Konoha, could have turned out so much happier…

She folds her hands to her chest and sighs. There's no point in dwelling over the past when it cannot be changed. The best one can do is to remember the good times, take lessons from the bad times, and move on.

Or is it remembering the good times that makes letting go of the past so hard?

She turns her attention back onto the path, and the patches of bamboo that tower on either side of it just behind the sparse shops and houses. This is not Kusa. It's a much smaller civilian village. Green, clean, quiet, modest, inconspicuous. That's all right with her. If she doesn't talk too much or too long, she'll be fine.

She fills her lungs with as much fresh air as they can hold, holds out her arms to catch what little sunlight leaks through the stalks. As she scans the bamboo for the admittedly remote chance of spotting a panda—or, more realistically, a _red_ panda—a more comforting thought comes to her. If Orochimaru really wanted someone like Tsunade, a dazzling empress he could clip to his arm and show off to the world and all his friends (if that's the right word for them), surely he would've gone out and gotten her, by now?

Instead, he has her.

For someone with a strong Leo influence in his chart, he's rather introverted upon a closer look. Must be the Scorpio parts of him throttling him back, plus the fact that his Rising and Mars signs are in that cusp between Leo and Virgo. He does have an ego, a flair for drama, and a certain reverence to his own grim aesthetic, but he treats the spotlight as more of a means to an end rather than an end itself. He'd much rather be studying techniques and coming up with new ones. But to do that, he needs to stir up enough supporters to do everything else.

And when it's time to rest and reflect, there she will be.

She shakes her head. Ha! She can be so silly, sometimes!

When she feels a pair or two of eyes on her neck, she looks back over her shoulder with a shake of her sandaled foot. Two men are standing in front of a merchant's stall, browsing his wares. While one briskly turns his attention back to the stall, the other's gaze lingers on her. Oh! It's Kazuo and Isao. They're not in their uniforms. Of course, they wouldn't be. They're undercover. Orochimaru must have sent them to watch her. Not because he doesn't trust her (or at least she hopes that's not the reason), but so she has help on the remote chance she runs into trouble.

The taste of dark chocolate fills her mouth.

But for everyone's safety she is forbidden to speak to them while they're on duty. She can't even wave at them, as much as her hands twitch with the urge to do just that. She must pretend they don't exist, or at least she must treat them like strangers. If they get hungry or thirsty, that's their problem.

She tenses for a moment, turning away to make the feeling pass faster.

_My day. It's s'posed t' be my day. They'll be fine._

Further down the street, she spots a thin, mousy girl in patched clothes selling soybeans out of a wagon. Well, shucks! You can't go through an entire day of visiting a village without at least one good conversation! Or maybe some people can, but she isn't one of them. One little chat over soybeans never hurt anyone.

She strolls over to the wagon with her left arm stretched out at her side, her right bent toward her body with her purse swaying from her elbow. That's to keep her chest from bursting with nostalgia for her days selling at market. For a moment, she sees herself in the girl's place, and the beans become onions and potatoes and radishes. The bamboo disappears and all the old shops rise in its place, like the ramen stand and the Yamanaka flower shop. The clouds part for the fiery Konoha sun that paints everything in brilliant reds, golds and greens and she asks herself why she left all this.

Then she notices how everyone is passing her by without a second glance, and she remembers.

Her reverie shatters when the girl calls to her, gifting her with an adorable smile with a few teeth missing.

Right! The present! The present is a gift! That's why it's called the present!

"Aha! Howdy, friend! You grow all these beans yourself?" She picks up one of the young pods and holds it up to her nose.

"Yes, ma'am," the girl answers with a lisp and a polite nod. "Me and Mama both."

Aina's aching heart squeezes up her throat at the word "Mama" as it briefly conjures up memories of her own mama sitting by her on her stool, contentedly counting the money while Aina collected it in exchange for their crops. It was one of the few times when she was content in general.

She swallows. "If it's awright, may I try one?"

"Uh, sure! Go ahead. These pods are already boiled and salted for you."

"Goodness! You done cooked all these by yourself?"

"Yes, ma'am. Me and Mama both."

She takes a bite of half the pod. Sweet, earthy, not too salty or mushy. It's perfect! But it doesn't look like she's getting a lot of business. Oh, if only she could buy the whole wagon's worth! Technically, she could, but that would be calling too much attention to herself. That's not allowed, either.

Her face lighting up, she promptly eats the rest of the pod. She just barely swallows when she blurts: "Gimme a kilogram! No, nope! _Two_ kilograms, please!" Snacks for the road. With all the traveling they do, one can never have too many snacks.

The girl nearly falls over, her face turning pink as a peach. "Y-you don't say! _Two_ kilograms!? O-okay! Comin' right up!"

"Oh, take your time! I'm here on vacation, don't you know," says Aina, her hips swaying. "I'm easy like th' mornin'!"

Though the girl turns her back to her, she keeps talking. Aina, fully taking in her thinness and how large her clothes are relative to her figure, wonders if she's getting enough to eat. "Your accent…I can't put my finger on it."

Of course not. You can't touch voices, only hear them.

"Would you happen to be visiting from Lightnin' Country? Or Earth Country?"

"Ah well, I—"

Oh. Oh, dear. Where _is_ she from? How should she answer that? Obviously, "Sound Country" won't do. Would "Fire Country" be okay? Somehow, it doesn't feel like it. Well, they did just come by from nearer Earth Country…it's not lying if she answers with that, is it?

"Y-yep! Earth Country! That's where I come from, jus' like my papa. My mama come from Lightnin' Country, though. Yep-yep-yep!"

The girl finds the scoop and begins filling the first paper bag. "Earth Country, huh? Nice. I bet all this greenery comes as a surprise!"

Aina's lips make an O-shape. "How come?"

Suddenly, the girl turns flustered, as if worried she may have just said the wrong thing. Gracious, does Aina know how that feels! "Oh, uh, I mean, I—I always thought Earth Country was all rocky and bare. No plants anywhere…I-I could be wrong, of course! Ain't ever been there. Ain't ever been outside this place…"

"You right 'bout not there bein' a lotta plants," Aina tells her, trying to be helpful. "We got a tree here-n-there so ev'rything don' weather away, but that's 'bout it. Ooh! We also got a couple rice fields, or else we couldn' have our marvelous rice cakes!"

"Right, right. A-anyway, I reckon you'll really enjoy it here. No mountains, but plenty of forests. There's a resort up the road from here with baths. It's small and not very well-known, but I like to think that's what makes it special…"

As she speaks, Aina tilts her head and notices remains of pods under the cracked table, scattered around her feet and buried in the dirt to varying degrees. Snacking on the supplies?

"You traveling alone?"

Oh, dear! What should she say to this?

"Ah, nope! I'm act'lly here with my—my spouse. I'm jus' seein' th' sights while he takes care'a his business. He a doctor. A trav'lin' doctor!"

Heat fills her cheeks at her utterance of that word. "Spouse."

That's not really a lie, is it? Orochimaru isn't a medic like Tsunade is—or was, before she caught her phobia of blood and resigned—but he does work a lot with people's bodies. Sometimes he makes them better.

No, they're not married, not officially. But she's his wife in every way except on paper.

She likes to think so, at least. And they don't _need_ the paper. Where would they even get it from? That's what he'd said, the last time she'd brought it up. She hasn't mentioned it again since…though that hasn't barred it from crossing her mind again. No more than their collective infertility has stopped her from thinking anymore about having children with him. They'd adopt all the lonely children in the world—plus have one of their own. Or two. Or five. Five dark-haired children with eyes of gold and beautiful brown skin…

The girl puts the smile back on her face. "Just married?"

Aina blinks away her fantasies. "Huh?"

"Haha. I asked if you just got married. You're blushing like a new bride."

"Oh! Ah, act'lly we been t'gether for years!"

There. She's going to leave it at that. It'd be too complicated to get into all the details while also _not_ getting into all the details.

Now the girl is beaming. "Wow! And here you are blushing like your love is new as springtime! So lucky! Here's your edamame, by the way."

Aina, lucky? That depends on how you define luck, and what mood you're in. Today, she giggles and claps her hands, taking it as a compliment that tickles her stomach, filling it with foam.

She takes the two bulky bags of beans, and the girl's name—Chie. "Wisdom, intellect." That's what it means, Aina tells her, making Chie glance shyly at the other's hands. Aina offers to have lunch with her, and then offers to bring it out to her when Chie says she can't leave the wagon unattended. Chie is almost totally tongue-tied at the gesture, her face turning a deeper pink like an apricot, but she can't refuse. Aina wouldn't have taken no for an answer even if she could say it.

Over bento boxes on the tailgate, she finds out that Chie is the oldest of five siblings, the others either too young or sick to help her with selling beans. Her mama is home with them. All she'll say about her papa is that he's "gone." Aina doesn't say any more about herself than she already has except that she, too, was a farmer before meeting her spouse, so she sympathizes and inserts little tips on a better garden. It takes every last gram of will to not dump every coin in her purse into Chie's lap.

The only thing that stops her is remembering that she'll see everyone again at the resort. If Chie is here tomorrow at the same time—which she confirms—they can all buy edamame from her. Then Kazuo and Isao and the others will have plenty to snack on. Yippee! Everyone is happy!

As she waves goodbye and continues her walk, arms and stomach full and body warm, Aina wonders what Orochimaru would think if she asked him to give the little family some help. Maybe not him directly, but…

Would Kabuto be up to it? It might help him feel better.

She catches the boy later that evening, after an afternoon spent pampering herself as much as she can stand. They have rooms across from each other. Which one is Orochimaru staying in? She'd prefer it to be hers for obvious reasons, but won't that leave Kabuto to sleep alone? Where is he, anyway?

"In the bath," Kabuto answers flatly, the first words he's spoken to her all day.

Darn! She'd been hoping to take a bath with him. Then again, he has just spent the whole day talking to people. He must be exhausted. He needs time alone to recharge. Maybe next time? 

"Ah! Okey-dokey. How 'bout you, Kabuto? How'd you like th' baths?"

He keeps his coal-black eyes trained on her double-chin, his expression stiff and his hands pulling the labels of his robe over his front as tightly as he can, like he's a caterpillar making a cocoo—pupa. "They were fine."

That doesn't sound fine to her. Aina taps her pointer fingers together. "Um…y'have dinner, yet? I ain't ate, yet. We can eat t'gether."

"I'm not hungry."

"A-are you sure? You been busy an' walkin' 'round all day. You mus' be starvin'!"

"I said, I'm not hungry." His small cracking voice takes on an edge as sharp as a kunai. His posture stiffens. Still, he won't look into her eyes.

Aina draws back. "W-what's wrong? Did somethin' happen? Are you sick?" She reaches out to feel his forehead for fever—

" _Get off!"_

He slaps her away. It stings worse than a hundred wasps. Aina immediately falters backward with a cry, gripping her stricken wrist.

His head hangs back down, his ash-gray bangs casting a shadow over his eyes. As his voice picks up volume once more, it jabs into her temples like glass. "Stop it…just _stop_ it. You're not my mother. You will _never_ be my mother! So stop—stop trying to be! Leave me alone!"

He rips something out of one of his pockets. Aina, missing what it is and fearing that he's drawing a weapon, finds herself with no choice but to assume a defensive stance, her arms held up to her chest and face and heart leaping into her skull. Any relaxation she'd milked out of the afternoon evaporates in a flash.

But Kabuto doesn't come at her. Instead, he whips around and tosses the object down the hallway as far and as hard as can. She doesn't move until he disappears into his room with a slam of his door.

It lands on the far side of the hall with a solid _thud_ , with two or three clicks to the floor.

Her head still pounding, Aina stumbles forward to fetch her rose quartz, taking her turn to clutch her robe around her body. There she plops down, and there she stays on the floor for almost twenty minutes with the crystal tucked in both hands to her chest.

…

It's half past ten when Orochimaru finally creeps in. He's more than used to wandering in darkness, but she's left on a single lamp for him, anyway. She lies on her side on the futon with her back to him and an arm strapping a pillow to her chest. The other hand stretches out in front of her, cradling her rose quartz while her thumb rubs circles into it. Upon closer inspection, she could not find any scuffs or scratches on it that weren't already there before she'd given it to Kabuto.

Her papa used to carry this around before he'd given it to her. He must have had it for decades, through many rough tumbles. Did he used to lie like this at night too, caressing it to soothe himself?

The trance her rubbing has put her in is broken when she feels him lie down behind her, having just shed his robe as a snake sheds an old skin, rendering him soft and smooth to her touch. When he comes to bed naked, that means he's in a more amorous mood. Or it's too hot for sleepwear, or it's in the laundry. She'd done all his laundry before they'd left and it's only mildly warm outside. So by process of elimination…

For her part, she's changed into the red nightie, the one she'd tried to surprise him with not too long ago, just like he'd asked. She has nothing on underneath. Unfortunately, it's going to take a little more than holding her flush to him and grinding his hips against her rear to get her back into the mood.

It's a good start, though.

Orochimaru's hair trickles and ebbs over her shoulders. He slides his pale hands, warmed by the bath, into her nightie and squeezes her ample breasts. His lips and tongue go for her neck, warming beneath his breath. Aina arches her neck in accommodation and drops quiet sighs at every hungry touch, her grip on the pillow and the stone wavering but not forsaken yet.

He must sense her resistance, taste the salt drying on her cheeks when he licks one, because he stops. "Mmm, what's the matter, Kame?" he hums into her ear, one hand reaching up to pat down her curls. "Too tired?"

"N-no," she pants, gently shaking her head, the rest of her curls dipping in and out of her vision. "It ain't that. I want it. I want you. Been lookin' forward t' this all day an' all night. It's jus'…"

"Ye _ssssss_?" His prolonged S's send a pleasant vibration through her plump body.

"I—I'm thinkin' 'bout Kabuto."

"Oh?"

She rolls over to face him, the quartz still in her hand. "Did somethin' bad happen t'day?"

"Nothing noteworthy. It all went as planned. It was rather boring. I thought about making a commotion just to make it more exciting, but in the end, I thought better of it. What happened between you two?"

"H-he done got upset with me." Aina's hand clenches over the quartz. "You were down in th' baths…I seen 'im come up. Looked awful tense for somebody who jus' took a bath. I asked 'im if he had dinner yet. Reckoned we could eat t'gether. Wanted t' ask 'im if he wanted t' come with me t'morrow t' help this girl I got th' edamame from…"

"A girl?"

"Uh-huh. Yep! She got a l'il brother who's sick but they can't afford no doctor, right now. Kabuto's a medical genius. Reckoned he'd feel better t' help a body out—"

He tilts his head. "You…didn't make any promises to her that you would send a medic, did you?"

"Huh? Oh no-no-no! Nope! I didn' make any promises. Nope-nope. I's gonna surprise 'er. People like t' get surprises like that. 'Course I'd ask you first. I don' do nothin' without askin' you first, don't you know."

That's not entirely true. But it's true enough.

"Ah. Go on."

"S-so I's gon' ask Kabuto what he thought'a my idea but he tol' me he wasn' hungry. W-when I asked 'im if he was sick, he—he yelled at me. Didn' do nothin' 'cept try checkin' 'im for a fever. An' then—an' then he threw my quartz."

Orochimaru waits until he's sure she's spoken her piece before he responds. "Did he, now? I warned you that he may be volatile."

"I know y'did. I jus', ah…didn' think y'meant by _that_ much. He's been so quiet since he came t' live with us…been tryna get 'im t' see me as his friend, 'cause I am, but it don' look like I'm makin' much progress…"

He pulls away to prop himself up on an elbow, removing his hand from her nightie to pet her, taking in as much of her curves as he can hold as he trails it down her side from her neck to her thigh. "What exactly did he say, sweetling?"

He's got a few pet names for her that he rotates. Dear, darling, sweetling, Kame (the last one, she's had for nearly her whole life). It's pointless to ask her which one is her favorite.

Except for darlin', she has no other pet names for him. Then again, why would she need any when his name is so lovely on its own? It sounds like a mantra on her tongue. Orochimaru. "Great snake circle." A circle for infinity. A snake, living long and regenerating every time.

She closes her eyes and relishes the affection like it's desert rain on her flushed skin. "He said, ah…he said stop tryna be his mother."

"I thought you said you wanted to be his friend?"

Her eyes pop back open and she lifts her head to peer into his. They glow in the semi-darkness like a cat's. "I-I do! But he looks so small an' helpless an' hurt. I feel like—like I gotta take care of 'im. Be there for 'im now that he ain't got Nono no more. You mus' feel it too, don'cha? Y'wouldn'ta took 'im in if you didn't."

Orochimaru muffles a coy laugh behind his hand, while the other glides back up her side. "Either he thinks you're patronizing him…or, as you've just said, he thinks you're trying to replace Nono in his life."

"But I'm not! I _ain't_ tryna take 'er place! I-I jus' wanna keep carin' for 'im for 'er since she can't do it no more."

Orochimaru narrows his eyes, brushing a lock of his hair back behind his ear. "Same thing. Even if it isn't, that's how Kabuto thinks of it. He lost her barely a month ago. The wound is still fresh."

A chill ripples through her at the image of Kabuto's heart bleeding inside.

"Anything you say or do that reminds him of her will probably set him off for a while."

…

"He—he didn' act like that 'cause I'm a bad person, did'e?"

"Did he say that, as well?"

"N-no. _You_ said that."

He raises an eyebrow. "Did I? When was this?"

Heat, half from arousal, half from shame, rises from deep within her bones. "W-when we were…you were punishin' me. Sexu'lly. You said I's greedy an' selfish an' bad-tempered an' I acted nice so's people'll like me b-but they'd never accept me th' way I really am."

…

"Oh. That." Orochimaru rolls his shining eyes up toward the shadows creeping over the ceiling as though he is deciphering a message from them. After another pause, they roll back onto her. "I didn't mean it that way. I never said you were a bad person."

Aina briefly sucks in her lips. "But…aren' those all traits of bad people?"

"They're traits of _flawed_ people. But being those things doesn't make you a bad person overall. They're traits that every person has possessed. They condemn them only when they inconvenience them. But very few people understand that. That's why we're together. We accept each other as we unabashedly are.

" _You_ don't think I'm bad, do you?"

His tone is dry and a touch smug. Orochimaru has shown little interest in the opinions of people in the time she's known him. Not that it isn't there at all—to the contrary—but he hides it well. Or maybe it's simply that no one has looked closely enough to see it.

The question takes her aback. It's okay to be flawed. Even the gods are flawed.

"N-no. You—I wouldn' be with you if I didn' think you were worth it."

He seems pleased with this answer, for he rewards her with a long, slow kiss.

"S-so…what do I do, now?" asks Aina, half-melting as she feels Orochimaru's fingers combing through her hair with practiced ease. "I—ah—I sure don' wanna make 'im feel worser than he does awready."

"Give him time. Give him space. Try not to be so overbearing toward him. Why not…imagine him a wild animal?"

Aina's mouth makes an "O."

"When you see an animal in distress, do you approach it with noise and aggression? Do you force yourself upon them?"

"Oh no! I'd never ever do that! Nope-nope-nope! I'm quiet with 'em. I make myself small an' do little things t' earn their trust. Like leave 'em food. But I don' make 'em eat or nothin'. They choose t' accept my off'rin's by themselves."

Orochimaru beams down at her. As rare and instant a phenomenon as a shooting star, one that no one would likely believe could happen if she told them. But sometimes, like now, he gives her one of those smiles where he closes his eyes and his face looks just a little softer, more serene. Playful, even. The sight of it melts the rest of her heart.

This is the side of him only she gets to see, these days.

"Hm. There you have it. Imagine Kabuto is one of your animals and treat him accordingly. Don't mention anything about family or being family and eventually he may warm up—I mean, become fonder of you. For what it's worth, he's held on to your quartz for the whole week since you gave it to him. He even had it out in the carriage."

"Ahaha! You're so right! It's like how I b'came friends with you way back then. Kinda. Aha!" Washed with relief, Aina at last sits up and releases the pillow. She clamors up to set the rose quartz up by the lamp at the head of the futon. As she settles back down at Orochimaru's side—this time, on her back—she wonders out loud: "Golly! Why didn' I think'a that b'fore?"

When he re-opens his eyes, they seem to see straight through her, all the way down to her soul. "You've always had a strong compulsion to nurture. Thinking about children, again?"

Aina sucks in her lips. Oops! Has she been that obvious? Yes. Why else would she treat Kabuto like she's been?

"Well, I, ah—I may'a thought about it again t'day. For a minute. When I's talkin' to that girl sellin' me soybeans on th' side o' th' road. I know y'awready done tol' me what you think 'bout havin' children. An' I don' reckon your mind's changed 'bout it any…"

"No, it hasn't."

Aina pats her soft, thick stomach. Even if their desire for children was mutual (which it isn't…yet), they can't make them the traditional way. Maybe someday, when the village is settled and his technology has advanced enough…

Until then, there's no point in rehashing an old argument. "Well, awright then. I—I'm sure I'll get t' do all th' moth'rin' I wanna do when we find more children t' care for. Children like…Kabuto."

"I'll speak with him about the matter."

"Go easy on 'im. I-I don' like what he did but I don' think he d'serves t' be punished harshly for it. A motherless child's got a hard enough time."

He would know this. He'd been even younger than Kabuto when he'd lost his mama and papa.

Orochimaru gets that look to him, as if he's reading her like he reads one of his scrolls. She can't give herself to him just yet. There are too many things still on her mind. It's not easy for a Taurus to stray from a path of thought, even when they wish to. Her Gemini Mars, she believes, makes her more pliable, but not _that_ pliable.

Perhaps he senses this? Scorpios have fantastic intuition.

He turns and lies back down, this time with his head on her lap, chest exposed to her, chuckling softly all the while. Another rare sight to behold, one that prompts her to sit back up so she can reach down to touch his hair as it spills over her thighs like ink. That he feels safe enough with her to be this vulnerable, now…she must be blessed. It's like having a lion or a dragon or even something as small as a cat or snake come up to you for a rest.

She spots his length sandwiched between his taut thighs to her right, not yet fully erect but beckoning her. No matter how many times she sees it, her breath always quickens. She carefully takes the pillow she'd been hugging, leans over him and places it over his groin.

"That's a—a l'il distractin'," she tells him.

He flashes her one of his crooked smirks, one with the left corner higher than the right. "Is that not the point?" he purrs, lifting the pillow off himself. He spreads his thighs apart just to let her get a fuller view of it, or perhaps tempt her into climbing up on him.

Aina's cheeks burst with heat that surges throughout her body and collects in between her own legs as she takes it and puts it back over him. "No! I-I got some more things on my mind. If you can make me wait for five weeks straight t' have sex then you can wait for a few minutes more."

He raises an eyebrow. "And here I thought you'd forgiven me for that."

"I have. I'm jus' statin' a fact, is all," she says as calmly as she can. "This's what happens when you come t' bed late, darlin'. I done got all these thoughts tumblin' 'round in my head I need to, um, get out." To emphasize her point, she shakes her head, letting her curls bob around the curves of her face.

As she retrieves her thoughts, she strokes his hair with tender fingers, tracing all the way back to the fluffier hairs that line his neck and behind his ears. Her other hand rests on his sternum to feel his heartbeat in her palm and fingertips. She wants to match hers with his.

If he's losing patience, he doesn't show it, save for a question he asks in a neutral tone: "Well? What is it?"

She puckers her lips and slowly blows out air. "Do…you know what happ'ned t' Nono? What _really_ happened to 'er?"

His smirk falls closer to a straight line, but not quite. For a moment, he stares up at her with one eye open, one eye closed. Half-enjoying her touch, half-contemplating his answer. "I do. She was sent to Earth Country for the same reason Kabuto was. In fact, it was the intent of the Foundation that she and Kabuto kill each other."

The warmth previously flowing through her blood freezes over. Her jaw hangs open in a silent shout, her eyes wide and watering. "W— _what?_ W-w- _why?_ "

"Kabuto and Nono were both brilliant spies— _too_ brilliant. The Foundation grew to fear that either one would eventually turn against them, and the village. So they decided to kill two birds with one stone. Figuratively speaking."

Aina is no longer surprised by his lack of reaction to such things. As a shinobi, he's seen far too many things to feel much horror toward life, anymore. She can't decide if that makes him better or worse off.

Well, they can't both be sensitive, she supposes. Not at the same time. They balance each other out.

"They…they forced 'em t' kill each other?"

Orochimaru, unperturbed, rolls his eyes, tilts his head to make her hand slide off his brow and settle more toward the back of his head. "Not directly. They were both undercover on separate missions and hadn't gotten to see each other in a while. Without knowing it, each had been assigned to take out the other. They didn't recognize each other until it was too late. Kabuto was quicker, and Nono died from her injuries."

The crack in her heart that Kabuto had dealt earlier splits back open. Her hands go limp over him. "D…did you know all this was goin' on 'fore it happ'ned?"

"Yes."

…

…

Her voice drops to a whisper. "Why didn' you stop it? Couldn' you save 'em?"

"No. There was nothing I could have done. Danzo ordered it. One way or another, he was determined to see them dead. I was outranked and outmanned. Besides, it wasn't as if Nono trusted me any more than she trusted him. And before you ask, you couldn't have done a thing about it, either. Nothing that wouldn't have ended with you being killed for your troubles."

She tucks her chin into her collar. She was indeed about to ask why he hadn't told her about it before now or let her help. What _could_ she, a little old farmer, have done about it without getting everyone she cared for in trouble?

"The best thing to do truly was to rescue them after the fact, when the Foundation would no longer be tracking them. Kabuto happened to be the one who survived. Sometimes, you can't save everyone."

Aina listens to him as best she can and goes back to stroking his hair as she would stroke her crystals. Yet along with his words she swallows a seed of doubt that buries itself in her writhing gut.

He isn't lying. He doesn't like lying, or so he's said. But why does it feel like he's not telling her the whole story? Should she press for more?

Orochimaru has always been secretive. Everyone has secrets, but some have more than others. Some have more secrets they'd prefer to keep that way. Aina does her best to understand this and let him keep some to himself, or at least give him enough time to decide to offer them up on his own. There are some things about her life even she doesn't like talking about to people.

The problem is knowing when a secret may be kept to oneself and when it really ought to be shared.

Why didn't he go to Hiruzen? Had their relationship withered so much that he felt that he could not? Was Hiruzen that apathetic to all the things Danzo was doing? Was he _involved?_

Her line of questions is broken when she feels one of his hands on her cheek, locking his mesmerizing eyes with hers. Under the single flame in the lamp, his skin is dusted with a pinkish gold, his hair a rich dark maroon. The purple markings lining his eyes turn black and sharp. His smile—what she can see of it that's not obscured by his hair or the shadows flickering over the angles of his face—returns a bit more bitter than before. Did she say something wrong? _Think_ something wrong?

"Tell me, Kame. Do you miss Konoha?"

Oh, dear! What could have given him that impression? (Unless he's asking her because he's asking himself that, too.)

"Ah, s-sometimes," she answers honestly—or at least as honestly as she can. With his fingers running over her flushed skin, his thumb occasionally brushing the pulse on her neck, she couldn't lie if she wanted. Inside, she burns like Konoha's midday sun, but it's Orochimaru who radiates all this heat, right here in her lap. He's her second sun, second moon, second stars, second sea.

"I mean, I—I don' reckon I miss it enough t' wanna go back there. 'S-sumin' I could. Ain't nothin' back there for me, now. Ev'rything I am…ev'rything I got now's with you. But sometimes—sometimes I wonder if we shoulda stayed. T' make it better. What if we coulda…?"

His chuckle cuts her off, like she's just told a joke she hadn't realized was a joke. His knuckles leave her cheek so he can cup his hand around the back of her neck, his thumb millimeters away from her throat, if not on it. The fingers on his other hand curl against his toned stomach, particularly the slight slope preceding his groin.

Her breath hitches. He's not choking her—though he has put his hands on her neck in aggression before—but he does press his thumb into the junction between her throat and her jaw. The vibrations his chuckling sends through her body seem more magnified around her neck this way, pulling another moan from her.

"My dear Kame…don't forget there's a reason you left. You know best what that is. You told me when you announced your intention to follow me that you'd thought long and hard about it."

"I-I did! I r'member. When I caught up t' you, with th' money from my farm, an' all th' things I could carry with me in my sack…"

It had also been the first time she'd told him she loved him. Not that she'd planned to tell him, right then. It had boiled over and spilled out. All he'd had to say to it, after a long and tense silence of staring at his palm after slicing thin cuts into it with his nails (and making her dread that she might have upset him because he'd rather cut himself than let himself feel sad—not that it had ever been her intention to make him sad), was: _"Very well. Let's go."_

As if he hadn't heard it and was only replying to the other things she'd said before it. Not quite the reply she'd been hoping for, but hardly a surprising one. All things considered, it could have been worse.

"But jus' 'cause you think a good long while 'fore you make a choice don' mean you never…think later about what life mighta been like if you chose diff'rently."

Like what if Jiraiya never left for Ame? What if Tsunade picked Jiraiya instead of Dan? What if Hiruzen picked Orochimaru to succeed him as Fourth Hokage? What if they'd told on Danzo?

What if Mama had held on for a little longer and kept taking her medicine? Would she still be here today?

What if Aina had gotten a job at another bar and never met Orochimaru at all?

"Ah, not 'cause you r'gret th' choice, nec'ssar'ly! But…um…"

Her mind draws a blank. Her scalp is on fire. She gulps against his thumb and clenches her fingers over him. Why would you think about what might have been if you didn't feel regret? Maybe she should stop before…

"Ahaha. Sorry. I don' even know what I'm tryna say or why I'm worryin' 'bout it now. I had such a wonderful day t'day, I really did. I met a farmer girl on th' street, bought a bunch'a soybeans from 'er. We even had lunch t'gether outside while she tol' me all 'bout th' neighborhood an' 'er fam'ly. My treat. It was such a great day! Up 'til I talked t' Kabuto. I—have _you_ ever thought'a these thi—"

Suddenly, she finds his thumb hooked in the corner of her mouth. It doesn't take long for him to push it in deeper—shy of being deep enough to gag her—and move it toward the center, pressing it on her tongue with his nail gently scraping along her palate. Her posture immediately relaxes as she breathes more deeply through her nose.

"Suck," he orders, his raspy voice turning husky, his gaze smoldering as his other arm loops around her thick waist. His slits for pupils widen with desire. She could lose herself in them and be just fine with that. "Suck until your mind is clear."

Desperate for a distraction, she obeys, throwing herself into the command. He tastes clean and smooth like a cucumber, only softer. His skin is as soothing as any of her crystals.

From the hedonistic look on his face and the half-panting, half-chuckling under his breath, he must be enjoying this, too. His tongue pokes out from his lips and licks them until they're shiny and moist. As silken as his hair is between her fingers, she lets go of it to pull his arm flush to her chest, poking her fingers into the spaces between his and embracing his thumb with her tongue. Her tongue is woefully short compared to his, but she makes up for it with love and effort.

She squeezes the ball of his thumb as she sucks more fervently, pretending for a bit that his thumb is his tongue, and then pretending it's his length. Speaking of, it's back in her sights. Orochimaru has pulled the pillow off his groin again. It's grown harder. Mercy!

"Feel better?" he asks her after a few minutes, his expression smug. "Feeling more relaxed?"

She nods, too dizzy to find the words, letting his thumb drift out of her mouth. A splash of drool condenses on her bottom lip, which he wipes up with his middle finger.

"Good, good…to answer your question, I seldom think about the past or things that could have been. There is no point, for the past cannot be changed. You must own your choices, no matter what the consequences. If you _must_ look back on the past, look at it only as a reference point to see how far you've come. As for leaving Konoha…"

He takes her by the chin to pull her head down, his damp thumb pressing into the fleshy border between her neck and lower jaw. At this point, the fever reawakens, her heart fluttering in her ribs like a hungry hummingbird.

"…it is much too corrupt to stay and change it. When a windmill is old and broken beyond repair, when it's riddled with termites, rotten to the foundation and no longer turning—you don't waste time trying to fix it."

Maybe _he_ wouldn't, but someone's lost cause can be someone else's fixer-upper. But she doesn't tell him this.

"You're better off leaving it to find a new one. Or better yet, build a new one suited to your liking. And burn down the old one, while you're at it, since it is an eyesore and wasting space."

She tilts her head and regains enough sense to say, "Y-you sayin' Konoha like a brok'n windmill?"

"Ye _ssss_ ," says he, stretching the S. His hissing makes her more acutely aware of the damp, prickly, ravenous heat building up within her core. It barely registers to her in her delirium that he may have just implied that he's contemplating burning down their former village.

Still, it registers enough to break through her fever. Her thighs rub together as much as they can while they're beneath him, supporting him. "Y—y'ain't thinkin' 'bout goin' back t' destroy K-Konoha, are you?" she murmurs, her hands drifting back over her chest and the top of his head.

"Oh, no. No. Not currently. Even if I wanted to, I don't have nearly enough manpower as it stands to pull it off. Still…can you not see the poetic justice in the Village Hidden in the Leaves, with their constant talk of the Will of Fire…burning to the ground?" he says with a grin that briefly flashes his sharp teeth, licking his lips again in morbid excitement that no longer shocks her, either.

Oh, right. "Burning to the ground." Because it's in Fire Country, and they believe in the Will of Fire (…which, if she only had the nerve to tell him, actually isn't a terrible philosophy if people only stuck to it word for word).

But they don't _all_ deserve to be punished, do they? Even if her neighbors didn't treat her as well as they could have or should have, that doesn't mean…just what does he mean by "burning it down?"

Wild talk for someone who had moments ago preached about leaving the past behind. Another thing she lets go without comment.

"Ha. Well, I, ah…I don' reckon we should do it. Don' seem worth th' trouble t' me. We oughta keep tendin' to our village, instead. I mean, if it's as rott'n as you say it is, m-maybe it'll fall down by itself…th-then we can, um, take in ev'rybody who's gon' be lookin' for a new place t' live."

His grin falls, that flash of ferocity fading from his features. "Hm. Anyway, it's only a passing thought. Much like your ruminations on could-have-beens, I'm sure."

"Ah, y-yep…reckon so."

He lets go of her face to let his hand slide across her shoulder and arm, setting off sparks under her skin in his wake. When he comes to a stop at her elbow, he fondles it. Now that they're smoother and clearer, his touch there is heightened.

"You've exfoliated your elbows…"

"Ah, yep! I sure did. I made me all soft an' pretty for you. A-an' for me, too, but also for you. Heeheeheehee!"

He needs more soft and pretty things in his life, even if they clash with his image. They both do.

" _Kukukuku_ …enough unpleasantness, then. Let's focus on the present. You want me…and I want you." He rolls over in her lap so his nose points to her crotch, whereupon he slips a hand beneath the hem of her nightie to push the fabric up to her stomach. Prying her thighs apart just so, he sticks his face between them and inhales, deep and slow and greedy.

_Oh—!_

Aina tilts her head, arches her back and whimpers, another wave of dampness rushing through her core. She cups the back of his head in one hand and kneads his back with the other, sorely tempted to push him even deeper into her crotch.

" _Mmmmm_ , I can smell you moistening. Where is the coconut oil?"

"Ah, h-hold on! I got it!"

They break apart so she can clamor over the futon to grab the bottle, and the earplugs next to it. She takes a moment to squeeze the plugs into her large ears, one at a time. Something tells her that their lovemaking won't be as rough or noisy as it had been last week. Last week, it had been fucking. To be sure, making love and fucking can be difficult to tell apart. Sometimes they mean the same thing. Sometimes they mean different things—or at least the same act with different moods. It's one of those few instances where she's found she prefers either term over their literal sibling, "having sex." The last one sounds a bit dull, now that she's had a taste of the real thing.

To be sure, she does love it when he's rough. The earplugs do well to cut down on the biggest drawback about it for her. But she loves it just as much—maybe, ultimately, a little more—when they slow down to enjoy each other.

And sometimes it doesn't matter. She just wants to be as close to him as possible in any possible way, even if it's just fondling or sucking him off in his study for a few minutes.

This time? She can feel it in her thrumming heart and tingling scalp and melting bones and gaping core that this will be closer to lovemaking. She can tell this because of how gentle he's been with her, so far. As gentle as he can be. Yes, the coconut oil is more appropriate, here.

By the time she returns with the oil, he's sprung back up. Rather than wait on her to hand it to him, he swims up to her to claim her mouth with his own. She melts into his kisses and the bottle melts out of her clutches as they pull each other closer, closer, closer until her breasts are crushed up against his bare chest and his hips are snug along hers. The sensation of his length rubbing haphazardly against her heating core nearly makes her heart jump out of her chest, her gasp muffled by his tongue.

He moves on to her ears, neck and shoulders with a dark, throaty laugh. "You really do look ravishing in red," he breathes in between a kiss and a nip to the angle between her neck and shoulder, one of her weakest points. "It complements your skin…"

Long ago, she used to think she might be prettier if her skin was white and flawless like a geisha's. Like Tsunade's. Like his. Or at least it could be a lighter brown than it is. But then, she quickly reasons, if he wanted lighter skin, he would have gotten a woman with that. They're hardly in short supply.

"Th- _thaaank_ you…"

Her eyes flutter shut as his tongues brushes the love bite he'd given her a week ago, one of the bigger ones which have since healed into two small, round scabs in a patch of fading purple. She tenses when his teeth graze it, almost as if to tease her. Not that she doesn't enjoy being bitten by him; it's simply not where her desires lie tonight. Tonight, she'd like fewer bites and more nibbles and sucking.

Besides, as long as this one is still visible—that is, when she doesn't have a scarf over it—there's no need for him to mark her again for a while.

In the end, he laves and sucks on it without breaking the scabs. Between his mouth, his length, and his hands squeezing her curves, she is steadily losing her capacity for coherent thought. " _Ahhh_ , you—you ravishing in _anything_ you wear! B-but I think I— _ahhh_ —I like you best with nothin' on!" she moans, tangling her fingers in his hair in one hand and clumsily rubbing and scratching his back with the other.

It will never cease to amaze her how strikingly different they look from each other. Dark and light. Curly and straight. Thick and thin. Warm and cool.

They are like yin and yang. Opposite yet complementary. One cannot exist without the other. Together, they may unlock the secrets of the universe and use them well. If they are not divine (she less so than he), perhaps they can become it? She likes to think so.

He doesn't say much about his feelings for her, preferring to drop crumbs for clues. But he's with her. That must count for something.

The next thing she knows, she's on the futon with her legs bent and spread apart and he's kneeling between them chuckling, sending even more waves of pleasure through her body. With nothing beneath the nightie to block him, she cries out as he pushes inside her a finger slickened with the coconut oil.

"Ah— _haaah_ —O-Orochi—!"

" _Sssssssh."_ His hiss sends a stronger vibration through her that makes her tighten so sweetly around his finger. He puts another finger from his free hand to her parted lips. "As much as I love hearing you call my name…it may be unwise to do it here."

Good gods, what should she call him, then? The sensation of his finger stretching her open shakes nearly every fuzzy idea from her mind.

Her toes curl tightly. Her back arches. Her nipples throb for touch. "Ah…h-h-how 'bout God?" she sputters. It's the first solid thought she catches, blurting it before it can either sink in or slip away. It's short and tumbles off her tied tongue. Blasphemous? Maybe. But somehow it doesn't feel like it. Not here.

Orochimaru laps it up. Literally! His chuckle picks up to almost a cackle with a thorough lick of his lips as his smirk turn up on the right corner. His eyes grow wide, his pupils expanding as if fixed to devour her just by looking at her.

Before she'd met Orochimaru, she had wondered what people could have meant when they spoke of undressing someone with their eyes—of fucking, or making love, through a glance. The things one is apt to hear in a bar! Now, she thinks she knows what they were talking about.

That it is she who he's staring at so lustfully when he's usually closed off in his own head is one of the greatest things in the world. It's as if, if only for this moment, she's broken through to him. Like she is indeed touching and being touched by the divine.

His arm coils around her until his hand comes to rest on her rear to squeeze it, pulling her closer until their hipbones brush together and one of her legs stretches past his. With a yelp, she props her knee against his back and wraps her arms around his neck to keep him near her. All the while, his finger keeps flexing inside her. He's always been a master at multitasking.

Yes, yes, _yes_ —

"Then worship me," he growls, her new nickname galvanizing him to slip a second finger inside her. Her nightie bunches around her thighs, obscuring his hand from her view. He plays her like he plays the koto, strumming and plucking notes from her throat to a song that only they understand, only they love. She may not be an elegant work of art like the koto—she's more like a kankara sanshin—but with him, it's so easy to believe otherwise. He elevates her.

"Guh- _God_ ," she whines, her hips rocking into his hand as his thumb finds her nub, igniting every nerve from her core outwards. Her lips burn with the desire to kiss him all over, but at this angle she can only reach far enough to pepper his face, neck and shoulders, pausing to feel his pulse beneath her lips. Her right hand goes on ahead, kneading his shoulder before drifting down to his smooth, lovely chest.

There will be plenty of chances to kiss him all over. When it's regular sex and not a quickie, they rarely stop at one round.

"Y—you th' be—beautifulles' thing I ever seen an' I love you so much! _Nggggh_ —like—l-like th' sea loves th' moon!"

He laughs into the next few kisses he pulls her into, tickling her mouth with his tongue like his thumb tickles her nub. As the sea rises and falls with the moon, her body rises and falls with him. The sweet tension curling inside her swells with the rhythm of his fingers, her hand bobbing with it as it drifts down his stomach. She lightly traces the rim of his navel with a finger before it floats downward to touch the tip of his length, earning a hitched breath from him.

It's hardly fair to have him finger her and not tend to him, too. Where's the oil?

"I—I, ah, I need some oil! I wan' touch you—"

"Careful! If we use too much, it'll get slippery," he huffs, his fingers still but remaining embedded inside her. She squirms on them and sucks in her lips.

"Ooh, j-jus' a l'il squirt, please! I wan' you t'—ah!—feel good, too! I'm worshippin' you!"

"Fufufufu…all right. But don't make me come. I want to be inside you for that."

His seductive words arouse another wave of heat that forces her to clench around his fingers. " _Mmm_ …m-me too!"

With both his hands occupied, he stretches out his tongue to weave it between their bodies and retrieve the bottle—a gesture that makes her giggle. He even uses it to flip it upside-down and squirt a blob of oil, about as small as a tack, onto her waiting thumb.

Still holding on to him, she rubs circles with her thumb against the rest of her fingers, hungrily inhaling the scent of coconut and the cloud of musk thickening around them. Her senses morph the shadows surrounding them into palm trees and shrubs, the lamp behind them into the glowing embers of a drowsy bonfire, his eyes reflecting them. Her pulse roaring in her ears becomes the tide rolling out of their sight.

As best she can, she works on his length with her bottom lip caught in her teeth, marveling once again at the sounds he makes at her touch and how it feels sliding along her palm and fingertips—silk binding steel. It matters not that she's lost count of the number of times she's touched him like this.

She begins with light and gentle strokes, half-worried about breaking it, half-delirious by the orgasm he's slowly digging out of her. Her arm curves around his neck, tickled by stray strands of his hair. Her fingers dig into his bicep, her toes curling into the sheets beneath them. She rests her head on his shoulder, pants bursting into moans as she grips him a little tighter and his thumb returns to her nub to rub circles on it that make her whole body seize up with pleasure.

"Ah…ah-ah-ah- _aaah!_ I—"

His chest rumbles against her with a chuckle that nudges her over the edge. Just as the cry bubbling in her throat begins to spill out, his arm quickly coils around her shoulders to pull her upwards, force her to look him in his smoldering eyes as he captures her gaping mouth in a kiss. His tongue slides alongside hers with ease, as if he's lapping up her cry if that's possible. She loses grip on his length and for that second, the only air she can get comes from his breath and his musk.

These moments of oneness are what she lives for. Yet at times, the ecstasy can truly be too much.

That's why he pulls her down and presses her down into the futon with his whole body. He makes no more sudden moves for a few minutes, squeezing the tension out of her with his arms and his weight as he tucks his face into her neck and she smells his skin and grips his back to ground herself. He's so patient with her, even with his length still tapping against her, stiff and hot.

"I—I gotta take this off," she half-titters, half-pants once her thoughts regain some shape. "I'm so hot…"

"Be my guest," he purrs, rising above her to give her space. She reaches down to her hips and peels the nightie up and above her head with an arch of her back and a squirm. She tosses the bunched-up nightie over the pillows. Lingerie is lovely, but it ultimately serves the same purpose as gift wrapping. Something pretty to look at and fun to take off to get to the real treasure hiding beneath it.

It's just as well. She loves it best when she can feel their bare flesh gliding together.

With no more barriers between them, Orochimaru hovers above her. He presses a slickened, coconut-scented hand to her flushed cheek, propping up her chin with his thumb. "Ready for my cock?"

Giggling, she nods into his hand, rubbing each of her thighs on either side of his hips. One day she may stop finding that word funny, but not tonight.

" _Kukuku_ …and how shall I take you?"

She's unsure if that's supposed to be a rhetorical question, but she offers a suggestion anyway: "I—I, ah, I got an idea! 'Nstead o' you thrustin' into me…how 'bout I thrust up on you, 'nstead? L-like you stay above me jus' like this, an' I do all th' thrustin?" She raises her hips up and down to demonstrate. "Lemme do th' work, f'r now? S-see how long you can hol' still 'fore y'get th' urge t' start thrustin' in me? Hmmm~?"

His hair spills around her shoulders and onto her breasts like silk threads stained with ink. His smile briefly falls as he contemplates her request—perhaps not what he'd had in mind—but he puts it back on with sharp teeth flashing as his chuckle makes her quiver. "How can I say no to that face? So needy, so eager to worship me…very well."

He unseals her lips with a wet kiss of approval that trails down her jaw, her neck, all the way down to the spot between her breasts, which he grazes with his teeth.

" _Aah_ …quick, get a pillow! P-put it under my bottom, please!"

She lifts herself up so he can grab one of them and place it beneath her; the other remains to cushion her head. Once she takes her seat, Orochimaru plants one hand by her waist and coils the other around her head, combing his fingers through her curls. He lifts his torso just so, hair cascading around his pale serpentine face as his eyes devour her trembling breasts. He lets her wrap an arm around his hips, hand squeezing his butt, while her other hand finds his length and slides it inside her. She all but cries out loud with relief to have him fill her again. Fingers pulling on her hair, he hisses at her warmth; she can already feel his hips twitching with the instinct to pump into her, and she squeezes them between her thick thighs to still them with a mewl of her own.

With her feet planted on the futon, it takes her a bit to settle on the right distance between them—far enough to slide out to his tip, close enough to take him inside fully without having to reach too high—jerking and grinding flush against him as she guides them both up and down. Orochimaru, bless him, makes both their bodies vibrate with his low growling and keeps his lower half propped on his knees. But other than his intermittent tugging on her hair which pull tears of pleasure to her eyes, he makes no move to control their rhythm.

Not yet.

It gets exhausting to always have control. He'd never say so, but it's true. It is frightening to take control, but sometimes you must. To see him like this trembling above her with his white skin turning warm and pink, however faint…it is nothing less than a miracle.

"Or— _God_ , I—th-this's _perfect!_ " she gasps, pausing to relish the sensation of being wet and stretched by him as she enfolds him in all four of her twitching limbs. "Y-you make me feel so good I can't hardly _stand_ it!"

"So what're you waiting for?" he rasps into her ear, his breath almost hot enough to melt her skin off her bones. She can feel him already trying to grind against her, the friction plucking another moan from her throat.

"Ha—be still, darlin'," she reminds him with a pant and a smile, stretching as far as she can to dab the pulse in his neck with her lips. "You…you're my moon. Lemme rock you like th' tide…"

The moon technically is not still. It just moves when no one is watching it.

The moon guides sea turtles and sailors through the darkness. That's what Orochimaru does for her. She rises and falls against him like the sea moves with the moon, feet planted on the ground on either side of him. She starts slow with short, shallow thrusts, her eyes watering at the sensation of his fingers tugging on her curls as her eyes fix on his flustered face, his unabashed moans alighting her body from within with puff after puff of fire.

Then she switches to a full, deep plunge that makes them both cry out and her pull his hips to hers. She grinds against him, relishing their connection and the friction and the salty musk surrounding them and wet sounds their bodies make together. Just like the sea at peak tide.

They cannot stay like this, but from there she comes up with a pattern. Five short thrusts, then a long, deep one punctuated with grinding before the next five short thrusts. A soft heat washes through her, growing with every glide and slide. Her back arches, her toes curl, and she swears she can feel his heartbeat inside her own. Can he feel hers?

In the middle of one of her grinds, she pulls him in by the torso to kiss and suck on his chest, his skin smooth and soft like a snake's, but without the scales (for now). She can feel his fingers clenching and unclenching in her hair as he meets her groin with his. From his twitching, she suspects he wants to move, to go faster. But he won't say so. Is it because he doesn't like to lose challenges?

Not that he really loses anything if he gives in, and for a second she thinks to tell him so, but this feels too _wonderful_ to stop now. They don't go this slow often enough.

Time stops and pools around them when they make love, like a mighty river blocked by a dam. They are the only two in the world. No. They are in a world of their own.

One needn't always speak to worship. Her moans are a prayer unto themselves. But three words course through the haze like a mantra, creeping onto the tip of her tongue before melting back down her throat.

_I love you._

They repeat in her head over and over with every plunge. She can never get him deep enough inside her.

_I love you. I love you._

His eyes are fixed her own, wide and aglow with lust and possession, growing feral by the second. His slits for pupils dilate and narrow as if he is devouring her through them. His growling, muffled as it is through the plugs, makes her heart, swollen with liquid warmth, race against her chest like it's trying to catch up with his…and the rest of her body flutter and tighten around him. Is he thinking the same three words she is?

_I love you I love you I love you I love you I lo—_

" _Ahhhh_ , k—kiss me! I-I need y—l-lemme kiss!"

She stops thrusting just as she's gotten him buried inside her to the hilt, his sack brushing tentatively against her as she pulls him down by the neck with tears in her eyes to claim his hot mouth again, her fingers getting lost in his hair, raking over his scalp. She barely latches onto his lips when he darts his tongue back into her mouth to stroke along hers, just as ravenous for kisses as she. He tastes this time of matcha tea, his scent closer to the sweat and coconut oil they've slickened each other with.

To have their bodies so tangled up, to have him inside her on both ends of her body, sharing each other's breath and find such joy and comfort in the act…if only she could capture this moment forever.

Then he loses control. Perhaps it's the tears spilling from her eyes that push him over the edge? His mouth rips from hers, damp around the corners with each other's spit, with a slight _crack_ that leaves them both gasping. The next thing she knows, his hands have left her hair and he's spreading her legs just a bit more apart, bending them up across her body until her knees are resting on his broad shoulders and her flapping feet are partly raised in the air. The pillow slides halfway out from beneath her.

_Oh—!_

A shout bursts from her at the new pressure of his weight half-cushioned on her thighs, and the new _deep_ angle he's found inside her. She could cramp in this position if they keep at it for too long, but if the ruthless pace he immediately starts pumping at is anything to go by…

As her moans shatter into cries and she squirms vainly against him to meet his thrusts, he cups one hand around her neck, his fingertips pressing on her pulse. Light enough to let her breathe but firm enough to feel it beating against them. The other hand gropes and squeezes one of her swaying breasts, pinching at her nipple.

"You…can be quite a _tease_ when you feel like it," he growls, his words rippling through her flesh in between his thrusts, slow and deep for the moment but will soon pick up.

Not as much as him, but she cannot find the words to tell him so. Her tears are blurring her vision of his face, now ruddy with passion. Only she gets to see his face like this. She squeezes her eyes shut, swallows hard, and manages a single nod, maybe two.

"No need to be silent, now. Come on, worship me more!" He snaps her back to attention with a sharp jerk of his hips before he moves on to play with her other breast. "Look into my eyes and keep crying out for me, just like that!"

She obeys, her arms strapping across his toned back to pull him flush to her, fingertips sinking into his soft skin. So they're going faster, now? She can't find it in her to complain. There's little chance they'll stop at this round, anyway. More more more _more!_

If she is his sea…he shall be her earthquake. Or perhaps volcano? Together, they could make an island paradise. They will.

She is weeping "God's" name when, after what seems like an eternity of him pounding her into the futon and oblivion, he finally collapses on top of her with a hiss, emptying himself as deep inside her as he can. Despite the cramp in her back and legs, and the mush her bones have become, she moans one last time at the sensation of being filled with his warm seed, lifeless though it is. It's strange…how he pulls her so close when he comes inside her, when they can't get pregnant and he's said he doesn't want that right now, anyway.

"I love you," she sniffs in between gasps, combing back his hair while he rests his head on her shoulder. The tension in her body washes away under the weight he bears down on her. She hadn't gotten the chance to climax herself when he pulled out, leaving her raw and porous—sometimes he gets carried away and forgets about hers—but it's all right. Orgasms are lovely, but they're not _everything_. The futon has become their drifting raft, the lantern wrapping them in the same tender warmth as a sunset. Their scent is the breeze.

He doesn't answer. It's just as well. She needs the quiet to stabilize, too. He lays there in silence for a few minutes, steadying his breath by her ear. His hands roam to ghost along her flesh, stroking and squeezing her more gently this time. Down her sides, down to her hips.

He hovers just above her, lapping up the tears from her face. In between these, he drops kisses long her lips. He traces a finger around the outline of her plug before pulling it from out of her right ear. "How do your legs feel?" he murmurs into her neck, in his softest tone that he only uses with her, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Ah…a l'il achy. M' back, too. I could use a l'il massage. If it ain't too much trouble."

He kneads her earlobe between his lips. "Hm. We'll see about that." He flicks his tongue against her ear. "Darling…did you come? I don't think you did."

Aina purses her lips. It does neither of them any good to lie. She takes a lock of his hair and drapes it over her eyes. "Um…n-no. Not exactly."

He pauses, lips against her pulse. "Really? After all _that?_ "

The soft heat cradling her body shrivels away to a pricklier kind. "B-but I really did 'njoy myself! I came once with y' used your fingers, when you were gettin' me wet. It's awright, Orochimaru! Y'know how it is. Sometimes it happ'ns; s-sometimes it don't. You need t' slow down an' touch my, ah, my clit'ris more, for me t' come. It's awright." She drums her fingers between his shoulder blades. "You can, ah, jus' lie down an' cuddle me while I touch myself if you too tired t' go again…"

She finds herself staring back into his eyes, nose to nose. His pupils, widened in the semi-darkness of their room, suddenly narrow. The way they do when something has upset him.

The edge in his voice cuts through his lazy veneer from moments before. " _No._ Unacceptable. And do _not_ patronize me. If you come tonight, and every night you're in my bed…it will be because of _me_ , and me alone."

She gulps. She…hadn't meant to insult him. But then, perhaps she should have seen it coming? Orochimaru has always been so proud. Many Scorpios are, especially with so much Leo influence. Even without that, most people seem to worry about their performance in the art of lovemaking if the bar conversations she's eavesdropped on are reliable. If only in that sense, he is like everyone else.

She likes to think this is also one of his peculiar ways of showing care. But…

Her ears burn. And so does her groin. "Well, I…I'd be thinkin' of you while I did it. Like I always do. An' you'd be snuggled up with me so you c'n watch—"

"Not enough. I've got a better idea."

Holding her down more tightly like a snake, he latches onto her mouth once more. Though spent for the time being, he rubs his flaccid length against her, drinking in all the moans he can pull from her. But humping isn't what he has in mind. It's only a preamble.

When they pull apart, she pants, "Ah, sh-shouldn' I go pee, first?"

"Do you have to go, right now?"

"N-no…"

"Then it can wait," he huffs, summoning a fresh wave of dampness between her legs. "This can't." He carefully slides the plug back into her ear.

He slithers down her body, kissing and tonguing her skin along the way. Her neck, her collar, her breasts, her navel…it's when he laps at her navel, reigniting the warmth in her stomach, that she realizes what he's about to do. She clenches his forearms and whines in anticipation.

He stations himself between her legs, easing them apart and lifting them over himself so they can rest along his back. He slides his hands under her butt and rubs slow, deep circles on the small of her back. She lifts herself up as high as she can to accommodate him, only for him to force her back down onto them.

"Just relax," he purrs against her inner thighs with a lick of his lips. "I'm going to eat you out."

"W—with your—"

He puts his nose right up to her petals and smells them, like she's his favorite flower. " _Yessss_. My cum tastes so much better after it's been kept warm in your cunt. Then, when I'm hard again, I'm going right back inside you. I _may_ eat you out again, afterwards. We'll see," he says, blowing on her inner thigh after running his tongue along the sensitive skin.

With a smirk and a chuckle that vibrates through her thighs and up the rest of her aching body—too much, yet somehow not enough—he adds, "But you are surely going to come, these next two times."

She shivers. How does he go from ignoring her for weeks on end…to _this?_

"Awright. B-but please go slower, this time," she half-giggles, half-moans.

After lingering by her thighs, he grips each of them in either of his hands before he buries his face between them. All she can see of it is his smoldering mesmerizing eyes, demanding her to lock her own eyes with them, peeking out from his curtain of hair which she strokes back with shaking hands when she recovers the strength to move up her upper body. Between her thick legs, he looks like the moon and stars rising over the earth. His moistened lips and tongue run along her petals, tickling her like summer rain while he nuzzles her nub with a playfulness that makes her chest ache in an exquisite way.

His teeth are sharp, but he will not bite her. Not down there, at least. His teeth and tongue can kill. They _have_ killed. They have wounded, too. But then he uses his mouth to bring her joy. No, not simply joy. He takes her to the edge of the divine! Shares it with her!

Although…she can't be sure if he's doing this more for her, or for himself.

But does it matter, really? It doesn't matter if nobody out here knows who she is, or that they wouldn't like her very much if they did.

He does. And he loves her for it…in his own baffling way.

"Keep your eyes on me," he commands with remarkable clarity for the tip of his tongue to already be teasing her entrance. "I want to see your face twist with pleasure. Pull my hair and buck into me, if you must!"

Despite the sighs and moans and titters streaming from her mouth, she nods and obeys, crying out when he makes a roll with his tongue and eases it inside her. Once inside, he flutters it along her contracting insides with practiced ease. The sight and sound of him licking his cum and her moist out of her is somehow sacred yet profane at the same time.

Her hand cups the back of his head, fingers raking through his hair as she pushes his face deeper into her folds—closer closer closer! She gives in to the twitch of her hips and rocks against him, the degree of her thrusts blocked by his strong hands on her thighs. He doesn't seem to mind her hair at all, able to find her nub in the middle of it.

Her racing heart seems to plunge into her core. He must sense it, for his rubbing against her body and flickering inside it pick up, like he wants to capture and devour it along with their cum. His laughter is the final little vibration she needs for the tension to release, which she announces with another strangled, overjoyed cry to "God."

…

By the time it is all well and truly over, she can barely move, never mind get up to use the bathroom yet. Altogether, he has pleased her five times: once with his fingers, twice with his mouth, twice with his length (with some assistance with his fingers, the second time). Small breaks in between to let her stabilize. Just as he'd promised. Five…is a good number. She's mentioned as much to him.

So for the time being, they rest in contented silence. He lets her rest on his pale chest while an arm loops around her to keep him tucked at his side. The other hand has hers clasped within it on his chest, just below her chin. The earplugs sit by the lantern with her crystals, her nightie off to the side somewhere. Relishing the cloud of their collective scent, Aina tries to time her breath with Orochimaru's, going by the rhythm in which her cheek rises and falls on him.

An idea from earlier comes back to her.

"Orochimaru?" she whispers.

"Yes?"

She finds the strength to scoot up the futon to claim his lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. He now tastes like coconut and matcha and both their cum. Strange but not unpleasant to her. One foot crosses over one of his legs to fondle his foot.

"You're wonderful. You're full'a wonder…"

"I know," he answers, not bothering to hide his smugness. "Is that all you wanted to say?"

"Ah…I also wanted t' ask you somethin'."

He quirks an eyebrow. "Oh? Flattering now, are we?"

Aina blushes. "I-I do mean it! You _are_ wonderful. It's jus'…I thought of it, jus' now."

He chuckles, sending a nice vibration through her ribs that trickles down to her stomach. "Well, what is it?"

"Chie. Th' girl I tol' you about. Sol' me th' edamame. I wanna take Kabuto t' meet 'er. I reckon he can help out 'er fam'ly. I'll make up a story, if I hafta. Can I do it?" She takes a lock of his hair and lets it flow over her fingers.

"Ah, an' also…I's wond'rin' if we can have 'er come work for us? Ah, maybe not _d'irectly_ for us! But like, for th' village. We're gonna need farmers, don't you know. T' grow food. Can't jus' have all ninjas. I could give 'er a loan t' help 'er fam'ly an' get settled…"

Orochimaru has gained control of Rice Field Country, recently rechristened Sound Country. With a name like that, one can reasonably assume there are already plenty of farmers from there to recruit. Then again, if they're putting up bases in all these other places…

After gazing intently into her eyes for a moment, he smiles. "Hm. I don't see why not. When do you plan to see her?"

"T'morrow mornin'. Out by 'er wagon. If he can't give treatment right t'morrow, we gotta a'least see 'er t' make an appointm'nt for it. We gonna be here for a few days, right? Five days?"

"Yes. And you will have to make an appointment. We are seeing the property tomorrow afternoon. Don't insist upon anything with her."

"Right, right. Five days…goodness! That also gives us time t' try th' baths t'gether. We gotta do that 'fore we move on. Thank you, darlin'." She kisses his breastbone before pressing her brow to it, the thump of his heart bringing a smile to her face.

Then her legs cross. "I…really do hafta pee, now. I'll be right back."

He takes a moment to release her hand. "I suppose I should use the toilet, as well. You can go after me," he announces, pulling away from her.

She blinks into the darkness, taking a moment more to realize what's happened. "Huh? Ah, wait! If you goin' first, a'least lemme look!" she urges, scrambling to find her hands and feet. She's still a bit dazed from pleasure.

Orochimaru stands in the entrance to the bathroom when he glances at her from over his shoulder, his hair draping over it. "You want to watch me urinate? I had no idea that sort of thing interested you…"

"Ah, no, no! It's not—it's not you peein' I wanna see, exactly!" she sputters, eyes darting to his backside. It's pale and toned but not overly muscular, like the rest of him. "Th-though it wouldn’ bother me much if I _did_ see it. I'd jus' like t' see you naked one las' time for t'night, is all! 'Fore we go t' sleep."

He glances down at the arm that props him along the entrance and takes a bit longer to respond than she expects. Did she say something wrong?

" _Kukuku_ …very well. But stay by the doorway."

…

Aina misses the sunrise, again. Oh, well. She can always catch it the following morning. Besides, she gets up to do something just as nice: a shared shower with Orochimaru. They refrain from making love under the hot stream—another time, perhaps?—but they do trade equally hot kisses between washing each other clean. Just like they used to do. In fact, they'd been bathing together well before they became intimate. It soothes her to know that not everything has changed about their routine.

By the time they step out, they're both fresh as lavender and her stomach is so aflutter with butterflies that it's a wonder she doesn't float off the ground. She steals glances at him as they dress. If he steals any glances at her, she doesn't catch him in the act. Except for one moment when she senses eyes roving across her bare back, but he's facing the wall when she turns her head.

She meets up with Kabuto after breakfast, after his private chat with Orochimaru while she waits outside admiring the garden. He isn't in much of a talking mood, as to be expected, but at least he's calmer, this morning. Aina tries not to talk his ear off, though she does try to bring the beauty of the land to his attention as they walk side by side.

It is when the two are halfway there to see Chie that he speaks up. "I'm sorry about last night," he mutters toward the ground, pushing his glasses back up on his face. He doesn't like eye contact. "You've only been trying to help, and it was unfair of me to lose my temper with you." Whether he means what he says or he's only saying it because Orochimaru asked him to is unclear. Either way, for the sake of peace, she will accept his apology.

She beams at him, her right arm held out to her side like a turtle flipper. A purse swings from the crook of her left elbow. She would hold his hand, but she's unsure if he would like that. It's like Orochimaru said. No matter how tempting it is, she mustn't bombard him with affection. The priority is to treat him with respect and earn his trust.

"Aha. It's okay, Kabuto. I know you been havin' a hard time. I'm, ah, I'm sorry if I made you uncomf't'r'ble. That's never my 'ntention. I hope we still have a chance t' b'come friends…ah, not that you gotta be my friend right away, o'course! I just wanna say, if you need anything a'tall, you can always count on me. Or Orochimaru."

Kabuto is silent. Aina must remind herself that he has plenty of reasons to distrust them both given what's happened to him, but at least she's put her intentions out there.

When he speaks again, it isn't to acknowledge her pledge. "So, where are we going, again?"

"Ah! Well, there's a farm girl I met on this street yest'rday. She's real nice an' hard-workin' like you are. Her name's Chie an' 'er fam'ly's strugglin'. Her one brother's sick. You know a lot more 'bout medicine an' medical jutsu than me so I reckoned you could best help 'em out. When I intr'duce you, I'm gonna say you're my spouse's apprentice."

Those last three words compel Kabuto to finally look up at her. "You're married? You and…"

"Heeheehee! Ah, not really, no. But we might as well be," she coos, flapping her hands and tapping her feet together. "An' you _are_ 'is apprentice now, so it ain't really lyin'."

She could have sworn she saw a flash of color in his cheeks, but it dissipates as quickly as it appears. "I'm surprised he'd let us do this…"

"I know you jus' gettin' t' know 'im, but he can act'lly be quite gen'rous!" When he wants to be, or when it suits him. "It's why 'e wanted t' start a whole new village. So people like you an' me an' him can live how we please."

A frown flickers through Kabuto's lips, almost as if he can't quite believe her. Or is he thinking of something else? But it, too, disappears before she can decipher it. "I know. He told me so, when he…invited me to join him."

That same knot she'd gotten in her stomach when she'd asked about Kabuto last night reappears. There seems to be more to the story than either of them are willing to tell her. But how much? And what is it?

Now isn't the time to pry. Chie and her wagon are rising into view. She puts on her best smile and points her out to Kabuto. "Oh! There she is. Let's make up a name for you, jus' t' be safe…"

"We don't need to," he says, a new edge in his voice. As if the notion of going by a name other than the one he already has, even momentarily, deeply offends him. "You can introduce me as Kabuto and leave it at that."

Aina stops walking, her face growing warm as her stomach flops. She'd ask what about this has upset him, but again, now isn't the time. He likely wouldn't want to tell her, anyway. Trust, first. They must build trust, first.

"Um…o-okey-dokey. Kabuto, then. Jus' Kabuto. Got it." Taking a deep breath, she waves to Chie to signal their arrival. "Oi, Chie! It's me again! R'member me from yest'rday? I brought a friend…"

…

The meeting is, if one asked her, a great success! Kabuto puts aside his discomfort enough to be polite, to ask the right questions about Chie's brother to get a better idea of what he's getting into. Chie looks about ready to cry when Aina offers to arrange for Kabuto to make a house call, no charge. She can wait until after the visit to propose she come work for them. It is best not to overwhelm people with too much at a time, even if it's good news.

She has her purse full of two more kilograms of edamame when Orochimaru picks them up at their agreed checkpoint. Plenty of snacks for everyone!

If they want them, that is.

Kazuo and Isao are with him, sitting across from him in the carriage. There's an empty space between the two that she takes. Kabuto takes the seat next to Orochimaru, at the latter's insistence. Odd, but all right.

"It went marv'lously!" she gushes as soon as she sits down. "We gonna see th' rest'a Chie's fam'ly t'morrow. I didn' tell 'er 'bout my idea t' have 'er work for us, though. Reckoned that could wait 'til after her brother got better so she could think more about it. Oh, if only you coulda been there! Her face…it lit all up like th' sunrise!"

Orochimaru tilts his head at the sight of the soybeans. Today, he's dressed in a purple yukata with white snakes along the sleeves and a pink haori over it, whereas she has chosen a forest-green yukata. He's got his arms crossed with one hand making a fist he can rest his head on. "You bought _more_ edamame?"

"Yep! Why not? S'pport th' locals! An' they're good for you! Th' beans, I mean. Full'a protein an' fiber…you could use some more'a that." She fishes out a fistful of pods and holds it out to him. "Want some?"

Orochimaru stares at her. Is it because of her comment about him needing more fiber? It's not like it isn't true—he does neglect that part of his diet. But then, the same could be said about everyone. "No, thank you. I'm fine."

"Kabuto? You want some edamame?"

"No, thank you," answers the boy, echoing his master as he resumes watching the world roll past them beyond the window. "I had a big breakfast." It hadn't looked that big to her. Neither of them ate that much besides the standard eggs and rice (plus fish for Kabuto).

"Ha. W'awright. But it wouldn' hurt y'all t' eat a li'l more, don't you know," she mutters before offering beans to Kazuo and Isao. Both accept her offerings without a word. Pleased, she kicks off her sandals and starts chomping on some beans of her own. One pod at a time placed in her mouth and milked for the beans with her teeth. Then she carefully plucks each emptied pod off her tongue and wraps it in a napkin tucked at the bottom of the purse. She relishes the fresh, earthy taste with a muffled sigh.

She peers down at Orochimaru's sandal-clad feet. She wants to reach over with her own feet and play with them. But Kabuto and the guards are present, and Orochimaru has his feet tucked away from her, closer to the door. Before long, he crosses one leg over the other. For such a powerhouse of a shinobi, he looks so dainty when he sits. She could just scoop him up in her arms and carry him. She really could, too. She has, in fact.

He seems to be lost in thought. What could he be thinking, this time? No one else looks like they'd like to chat, so she settles for humming a tune Mama used to sing to her in between munching on bean pods. It's not necessary to talk all the time. Sometimes it's better to sit quietly and contemplate one's love of life and the people in it.

Until she starts to crave a shoulder to rest on, the rhythm of the carriage bumping on the road lulling her to sleep. She sways to her right and lands on Isao's bicep, earning a bewildered twitch from him. The jerk shocks her back awake. She hadn't meant anything by it! She was just sleepy.

Across the way, after a snort and several rapid blinks, she spots Orochimaru sparing a glance at them. He says nothing, but his expression has turned a bit darker, somehow. He hadn't shown this much concern when she'd tried to kiss that man in front of him. Not right away.

Although, feeling something and showing that feeling are two different things…

She can hear Isao gulp as he scoots as far away from her as he's able. Kazuo, on her left, takes this as a cue to scoot away from her, as well. Her fingers clench in her lap and a wave of prickly heat flashes through her body. Kabuto only briefly regards the three of them before resuming his staring out the window.

The property isn't as green and lush as she had imagined it would be for the country they're in. In fact, there are hardly any plants at all. It's a large rock formation among several rock formations that look a bit like coiled snakes if you squint. Any plants to see are some bone-bare shrubs scattered here and there across the arid dirt at their level and around the cliffs surrounding them. Construction has already begun for the base, which from the looks of it will be underground, the entrance for it beneath the largest rock formation.

She can understand the need to be hidden, but surely a place can be incognito _and_ pretty at the same time? She can't even see any animals, though maybe if she looks a little closer around the place, she could find some burrows.

"Hmm…I reckon this _is_ a good place t' make a base, but it looks awful barr'n t' me. Don'cha think, Oro—"

Orochimaru is the second one to exit the carriage after Kazuo, who steps out first to scan the area for traps and troublemakers. Kabuto gets out third, then Isao. She is the last one inside. None of them acknowledge her comment.

How jarring, when just last night he'd nested in her arms with his bare bottom fitted against her hips and one of her legs curled over his. But it isn't personal. He's just switched back into business mode. That's all.

It's the same reason why, when she slips her sandals back on and climbs out of the carriage to catch up, his hands are clasped together in front of his chest in contemplation. Kabuto is on his right flank, his own expression inscrutable except for the way his eyes scan the area from top to bottom. Not unlike Orochimaru.

Her own hands twitch with the thwarted desire to hold them. Even so, she makes up a smile as she strolls up to join his left, a hand lifting to shield her eyes from the midday sun (and to have something else to do), the rays as white and brilliant as he is. Sometimes, like the sun, he can be _too_ brilliant.

Never mind. They can at least walk together, see how the new base is coming along up close. Like the family she hopes they can become.


End file.
